


Ridiculously In Love

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Pete's World, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-17 01:40:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16965291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: She had lost sight of her easily distracted, spiky-haired plus-one ages ago.





	Ridiculously In Love

**Author's Note:**

> repost

Rose bit into a purple-frosted cupcake, munching as she observed the festivities in the Tyler Mansion. It was Tony’s third birthday and Jackie hadn’t spared any pennies for her little boy’s celebration. There were carnival rides on the front lawn, a bouncy castle, laser tag and, to the Doctor’s delight, enough sugary food to start a country-wide diabetes epidemic. In fact, there was so much entertainment, that she had lost sight of her easily distracted, spiky-haired plus-one ages ago.

Just as she was about to start a search party of one, the Doctor’s excited shout cut through the noise. “Rose! Roooooose! Think I should grow a mustache?”

The absurdity of the question caught her off guard. She swiveled around, nearly choking on her dessert as laughter burst from her throat. The Doctor was standing next to a temporary photo booth wearing a ridiculous grin with an equally ridiculous cardboard prop in front of his face. His eyes were surrounded by large, round and red glasses. His nose was obscured by an orangey, bulbous cartoon nose. And hanging from the nostrils was a comically long handlebar mustache.

“What d’ya think?” the Doctor asked, eyebrows wiggling above the red frames.

“You’re daft!” Rose wiped away her tears of amusement and walked over. She noticed the large box by his feet, all sorts of absurd masks spilling out. “Is there a pink one?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He presented a cut-out from behind his back — pink glasses, orange schnoz, and a mustache — to match his.

She snatched it from his fingers, propped it on her nose, and darted inside the photo booth. The Doctor bounded after her, giggling like a schoolboy.  Before Rose could decide on a pose, he plopped down on the bench beside her and pushed the “start” button. And then he swiftly wrapped an arm around her waist, pressed her tight to his hip, and smacked a wet kiss to her cheek. She didn’t notice the flash of the camera, laughing too hard from the bits of cardboard and Doctor tickling her cheek.

“I bet that’s one for the scrapbook!” the Doctor declared, eagerly exiting the booth to retrieve their picture.

Rose’s smile dropped when she joined his side. Realizing what he’d said, the Doctor’s grin faltered and he swallowed heavily. All of their merriment had disappeared, banished by an innocent statement.

“Oh, um…” he tugged an earlobe, avoiding her eye. “Sorry. I didn’t think.”

“S’ok,” she murmured.

She’d _had_ a scrapbook. Emphasis on  _ had _ . It was currently across the void. In a different universe. In a desk drawer she’d never open again. On a ship she’d never see again. Piloted by the man who had abandoned them.

Rose shook off the past, refusing to let it wound her again. After a few months of healing from Bad Wolf Bay, they had both accepted the fate they had been handed, realizing they were exactly where they wanted to be. In Pete’s World, ready to make new memories — together.

And in little time, Rose had fallen even deeper in love with the Doctor here, the one who had chosen her. The one who’d had the guts to tell her how much he loved her back. The one who wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, to willingly wither and die by her side. He  _ was _ the Doctor —  the brooding man in leather, the bouncy man in pinstripes, the part-human able to offer her the world — and the man imprinted on every piece of her heart.

Rose cleared the lump in her throat and took the Doctor’s hand, threading their fingers together. “How do we look?”

He squeezed her palm and collected their photo from the tray. Just as she had suspected, they looked daft. Her eyes were squeezed shut, mouth gaping wide in laughter and framed by a bushy mustache. The Doctor and his mask were squished against the side of her face, lips pursed in an exaggerated kiss on her cheek — the perfect snapshot of merry party-goers.

But it was so much more than that. It was a frozen second of joy from two people who never wanted to be separated from the other by more than five inches. Because they didn’t. They couldn’t stomach the distance. They were two besotted idiots who wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of their lives literally attached at the hip — ridiculously in love with each other.

Rose blinked, a realization dawning on her. “This is our first photo here.”

“Huh. Guess it is.” The Doctor tucked the picture into his jacket. “The first of many, I hope.”

“I’ll start a scrapbook.”

He grinned and leaned down to place a tender kiss on her lips. She beamed as he pulled away and lovingly tucked a stray hair behind her ear. Unable to resist, she tiptoed up for one more kiss and then tugged on his hand, leading them toward their forever.


End file.
